Medic! Working Title
by DragonGirl404
Summary: A Medic and You story.  Kind of a create your own adventure  but not really... There's only 4 options. And that might be taken down to 2...   Starts as T, may and may not stay there  might write M during ch. 4
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Disclaimer! I OWN NOTHING! Belongs to VALVE or SOURCE or whoever owns them... =p

I have the first 3 and a half chapter typed up (on my phone), but only on one choice... I have yet to write the rest...

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"Medic!" you call from where you lie, bleeding on the battlefield from a bullet wound you'd taken from a sniper to the calf. If you hadn't seen him at his post just before he'd fired his rifle, you'd be respawning about now. You hear heavy, crunching footfalls coming toward you, and you're relieved to see the German veteran. He looks you over briefly, then pulls the trigger on his medigun.

"That should hold you until I can get you back to meine office," he tells you, his accent heavy, scooping you up into his arms, running in zigzags across the battlefield and back to your base. He lays you gently on a cold, metal table and rustles through a refrigerator, finally finding what he was looking for several excruciating moments later. Already you can feel the effects of the medigun wearing off. "This will only hurt for a minute," he says, turning to you, flicking the syringe in his hand to rid it of air bubbles. You gulp, looking warily at the oversized needle. He chuckles. "What, are you afraid of a little needle?" he croons, stroking your hair with the back of his glove, "I would think that after running around dodging bullets and fire all day, this should be nothing for you!"

You bite your lip, trying to be brave. What he said made sense, but you'd always been weak around needles. You squeeze your eyes shut, and are surprised to feel a mask descend over your nose and mouth. "I may be insane, but I am not a cruel man," you hear Medic say before the anesthesia knocks you out.

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"Wakey wakey! You're all patched up!" Medic calls, his voice penetrating the drug-induced fog. You groan, but reluctantly open your eyes. "You slept through the last of the day's battles," he informs you, "You are, of course, free to go to your bunk, but I would encourage you to stay with me for the night," he continues, raising a questioning eyebrow at you.

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If you are female, your next chapter selection will begin with 'a'. If you are male, your next chapter selection will begin with 'b'. If you choose to go with Medic, then your next chapter selection will end with 'a'. If you choose not to go with Medic, then your next chapter selection will end with 'b'


	2. Chapter 2 A

A/N: I still own nothing.

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"That's probably a good idea," you manage, holding out your hand to him, "Could you help me up?" He ignores your offered limb, choosing instead to shovel you up into his hands, intent on carrying you to his room. Normally, you would protest this sudden contact, but you are still groggy and heat radiates from his body, warming you. After a day spent on a cold operating table, it feels damn good.

You sigh and absentmindedly snuggle closer to him, tracing invisible patterns in the hair of his arm. You feel his chest swell with air, then deflate as he sighs heavily, and you can feel his heart beat against your ear. You're about to drift off again when you hear a door open and close. Medic sets you on your feet, and you look around. In one corner is a deceptively soft looking bed with green cotton sheets. Along the wall is a bookcase filled with medical journals and other novels. "Nice bunk you got here," you mumble, rocking back and forth from the balls of your feet to your heels. He chuckles again, putting his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

"Come," he says, steering you towards the bed, "Let us get you comfortable, shall we?" You giggle at his accent, and let him move you. He pushes you down to sit on the bed. "Do you want me to go to your quarters to get nightclothes, or is it okay if you just borrow some of mine?" he asks, urging you to remove your combat boots. You shrug, unlacing the shoes enough to allow you to tug them off. You wince as a sharp pain indicates that you've pulled at the stitches the doctor had used to close the hole the bullet had left.

He goes over to a chest-of-drawers you hadn't noticed earlier and takes out two pairs of flannel pants, tossing one to you before going to the restroom to change into his own. You carefully pull off your camouflage cargo pants and army shirt, leaving you feeling somewhat naked in your underwear and sports bra. You hear a knock on the door, and you hastily pull on the pants. "Can I come in?" you hear Medic ask.

"Yeah, you're good," you answer, picking up and carefully folding your clothes. You look up to see a shirtless Medic standing in front of you. His stomach and chest are riddled with scars that are probably from a land mine in World War two.

"They do not hurt me anymore," he murmurs, answering your unasked question, taking the hand you hadn't realized that you'd extended into his own great paws, "Come now, you should rest. Do you mind if I lie with you?" You shake your head and slide to the far side of the bed, jumping as your bare back makes contact with the cool wall. Medic chuckles again and slips down under the covers, rolling over on his side to give you more room. You curl up into a ball, pulling the comforter up to your chin.

You feel Medic's breath deepen and even out beside you, and feel his chest rumble slightly as he starts to snore quietly. You smile and start to doze off again when you feel Medic shifting around next to you, rolling over so that his face is pushed into your hair. You feel yourself go rigid, and your heart races. Medic, still blissfully unaware of your discomfort, puts an arm around you, his huge hand resting on your waist. He pulls you closer until his bare chest is flush against your back. He is warm, and you can't help snuggling closer into the embrace.

You feel his other arm snake under you, pulling you into a tight, one-sided hug. You sigh and relax, letting yourself melt into him, the dull throbbing in your calf temporarily forgotten. You drift away once more, vaguely aware of the man behind you. Your eyes fly open when he begins to nibble your ear, whispering to you in German. "Ich liebe dich," he purrs, biting your earlobe, "Ich werde nie gehen lassen, meine kostbare Engel, meine süβe Blume."

You haven't the slightest idea what he's saying, but it sounds sweet. You sigh again, turning so your head is buried in his chest. You scoot up a little bit so that your head is resting on his shoulder and look at his face. His eyes are closed, but he looks hurt. You kiss his jaw lightly, and he sighs deeply, a contented look coming across his features. Finally, you fall asleep.

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A/N: "Ich liebe dich. Ich werde nie gehen lassen, meine kostbare Engel, meine süβe Blume." translates roughly to 'I love you. I will never let you go, my precious angel, my sweet flower.'


	3. Chapter 2 B

A/N: I still own nothing. Translations available at the end of each chapter.

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You opt to sleep in your room tonight, deciding that a familiar environment is just what you need. You try to sit up, and a wave of nausea hits you, so you let yourself drop back to the table. You groan, and s it passes, try again. You manage to get to the door this time before your knees give in beneath you. "Can you help me?" you ask reluctantly.

"Ja, of course," he says, taking your hand before quietly adding, "Ich würde alles für dich tun." He guides you to your room, and you fall into your blissfully warm bed, not bothering to take off your boots and bloody clothes. You're almost asleep when you hear Medic sigh and approach you. You feel him unlacing and tugging off your boots and peeling off what's left of your sticky, blood-stained pants, making a disgusted sound and throwing them in the trashcan. You gasp and sit up, covering yourself with your sheets.

"The hell are you doing?" you scream at him.

"I'm sorry," he says calmly, "It is not good for you to sleep in blood. If it makes it better, I did not see anything." You glare at him and see that his ears have turned pink. You try –and fail –to keep a stern face, collapsing into a fit of giggles before asking him to leave. He does, and you carefully pull on a pair of pajama pants, shrugging out of your shirt. You yawn, stretch, and dart under the covers. Before long, you are asleep again.

You wake up a little over an hour later to a click and muttering. "Dummkopf," you hear, then you feel cold, soft lips pressed to your forehead, "Ich habe dir bei mir bleiben. Jetzt auch dich schauen. Sie sind mit fieber, und es ist zu spat, um ihn zu stoppen. Wir können nur abzuwarten."

You shiver and roll over. Your head is killing you, and you feel like total crap. Medic lifts your chin to look at you. He hands you two large, orange pills and a glass of water. "Take those. They will make you feel better." You swallow the bitter pills, and feel the side of your bed sag under the weight of the medic. "Now go back to sleep. I will do what I can," he tells you. You have no problem obeying the doctor's orders, and slip back into the foggy haze that is sleep.

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A/N: Translations-

Ich würde alles für dich tun- I would do anything for you.

Dummkopf- Fool/idiot

Ich habe dir bei mir bleiben. Jetzt auch dich schauen. Sie sind mit fieber, und es ist zu spat, um ihn zu stoppen. Wir können nur abzuwarten- I told you to stay with me. Now look at you. You are with fever, and it's too late to stop it. We can only wait.


	4. Chapter 3 A

A/N: Still own nothing.

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You awaken once more with a dull pain in your leg, breathing in a weak musky odor. You open your eyes to see Medic beside you, still sound asleep. You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to just lie with him. You can't hear any of the morning ruckus (usually consisting of Pyro running around blasting his flamethrower, gleefully shouting at everyone to wake up, with the background noise of Soldier and Demoman trying to stop him), and decide that it must be Sunday: the allotted day of peace.

Medic groans, and you know that he's awake, but you don't want to let him go just yet. You pretend that you're asleep, and you feel Medic stiffen as he realizes that he's holding you, then relax when he realizes that you're "asleep". He kisses your head gently, then hugs you tighter. You choose then to let him know you're awake, and you pretend to yawn and stretch. He quickly releases you, jumping backwards.

"Mornin'," you mumble, still sleepy.

"Good morning, meine liebe," he smiles. 'He still doesn't know I was awake,' you think. "You don't know German, do you?" he asks, a look of concern fleeting over his usually-calm features. You shake your head, and a wave of relief seems to wash over him. "Care to come with me to get some breakfast und coffee?"

"Sure," you answer, smiling up at him. He gets out of bed and opens the door, holding it open for you. You mumble a thank you, and you both walk to the cafeteria. Coffee, you see, has already been prepared. You pour yourself a cup, then some for Medic. "How do you like it?"

You hear something drop as Medic jumps and turns to face you. "What?" he asks incredulously.

"You're coffee, how do you take your coffee?" you laugh.

"Oh, right… Black, please. Und thank you," he says, turning back to whatever's on the stovetop. "You like eggs, yes?"

"Of course," you say, picking up the steaming mugs and crossing the kitchen to where Medic is standing, flipping pancakes while keeping an eye on a skillet of scrambled eggs. You smile to yourself and wonder if anyone else has seen Medic acting so… Domestic. You silently place the mugs on the counter next to him, then sneak up behind him. You wrap your arms around his waist and nuzzle his back with the side of your face, giggling as you feel him stiffen. "Thank you, Medic. For everything." He nods and relaxes.

"Pancakes und eggs are ready. Would you mind getting the erdbeeren und sahne?"

"The what?"

"Entschuldigung, strawberries und whipped cream," he answers, taking the prepared food to the table.

"Oh, sure!" You open the refrigerator and rummage through it for a bit before finding them behind some of Demoman's scotch bottles. You grab them and take them to the table, stopping on the way to get the coffees. You sit in the chair opposite the doctor, setting his coffee in front of his plate. You smile at him, then take a bite of the fluffy eggs. "Where'd you learn to cook?" you ask, thoroughly pleased with his culinary skills.

"I was elected cook during the war," he answered, taking a swig of coffee. You and Medic talk and eat for about an hour, then wash the dishes. "Do, uh… Would you like to do something today? With me?"

"Maybe, what did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. I'm sure there's a movie theatre around here somewhere."

"Sure! And then maybe we can rent a couple of other movies. Just have a total lazy day. I think that one war movie is out… Dr. Strangelove. Want to go see that?"

"Anything you want to see," he answers, smiling at you.

"Yeah, then we can rent West Side Story and Psycho!" you exclaim excitedly. Medic chuckles and extends a hand to help you up.

"Let me ask Sniper if we can borrow his car for the day. In fact, tell you what: let's get ready, I'll find us a car, and we'll meet at the entrance in forty-five minutes. Deal?" You agree and go back to your quarters, trying to find something other than the company-issued combat uniform. In the bottom drawer, you find a knee-length skirt and a leather jacket. You throw them on with a plain green blouse and your combat boots. You don't bother with makeup, and just brush through your hair to get the knots out.

You grab your wallet and stuff it in your jacket pocket, then look at the clock. Five minutes 'til you and Medic had agreed to meet. You smile and run to the door, slowing to a cool strut just before you turn the corner. You stop when you see him, suddenly feeling under dressed. He is wearing a charcoal grey three piece suit and a fedora. He holds out his arm, and you loop your through it, walking with him to Sniper's custom-made Australian car. He opens the passenger door for you, then gets in the driver's seat. "He did not believe me when I told him I needed to borrow his car for a date," he tells you matter-of-factly.

"Who said it's a date?" you ask coyly, watching his expression out of the corner of your eye. You stifle a giggle as it goes from confused to shocked to hurt to sly in a matter of seconds.

"Well, even if it is not officially a date, we can make him think that it is," he says, grinning maniacally. He puts a hand on your knee, eyes darting between you and the road, checking for any kind of reaction. When you give none, he tries harder, trailing his fingers up your leg, bringing his hand to rest on your thigh. Your eyes widen marginally, and he smirks. He moves his hand, only to bring it back, caressing the smooth, creamy skin of your upper leg. You squeak, and he chuckles, putting his hand back on the wheel. "Just testing your boundaries," he says nonchalantly.

The rest of the drive passes uneventfully, and when you get to the theatre, he buys both tickets, stating that he 'would not be a proper gentleman' if he had let you buy your own. "Candy?" he asks, pointing to the concession stand behind him. You give him a look, then buy your own candy, and a package of licorice for him.

"You like licorice, ja?" you ask in your best imitation of the man standing before you. He smiles and nods.

"Ja, meine blume." You giggle and grab his hand, pulling him into the theatre. He finds seats, and you watch the movie, returning his playful antics, resting a hand on his thigh, walking your fingers slowly up the material of his suit. You laugh when he gasps quietly, but then he growls from deep in his throat, and you turn to him. His eyes glint behind his glasses, but it is not anger that you see. It is a raw emotion that you cannot identify, and you don't have time to try to figure it out. His mouth presses against yours, eagerly, hungrily. He bites your lip, then kisses it again, moving from your mouth to your jawline, then softly nibbling at your ear.

"Du müssen meine Liebe, mein Engel, lernen, dass, wenn du mit dem Feuer spielen, du verbrannt erhalten, " he whispers to you, his voice deep and throaty. You shiver, turning further in your seat to recapture his mouth, biting his lip. "Not here," he says, his glasses askew on his face, a dazed smile prevalent on his visage, "Ich liebe dich." He kisses your forehead, shoving his glasses back into place, and turns back to the movie, putting one arm around your shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing circles into your back.

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A/N: The German here translates roughly as follows:

Meine liebe: My love

Erdbeeren und sahne: Strawberries and whipped cream

Entschuldigung: Sorry

Ja, meine blume: Yes, my flower

Du müssen meine Liebe, mein Engel, lernen, dass, wenn du mit dem Feuer spielen, du verbrannt erhalten: You must, my love, my angel, learn that when you play with fire, you will get burned.

Ich liebe dich: I love you

On a somewhat related note, I've decided to try to learn German! =D


	5. Chapter 3 B

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long… ^^;

I don't own anything but 'you'. Good lord that sounds weird…

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You open your eyes, shivering. You groan when you realize that you're back on Medic's operating table. "Ah, good, you're awake," he says, clapping his hands together, "I assume you slept well?" You just groan again, trying to sit up. You find, much to your dismay, that you are strapped down, trapped. "Do not try to move. You are sick because your wound got infected," he says, glaring at you accusingly, "Did I not tell you it would be wise to stay with me? I could have caught it sooner."

"Sorry," you say lamely, trying to look around.

"It is of no importance now," Medic says shortly, flicking a syringe. You cringe and follow his movements warily with your eyes. He smiles, "The hard part is over. You were asleep when I put the IV in. It shouldn't hurt anymore." He injects the liquid into a "feeder tube" that linked directly into the IV. It drips slowly down the tube and into your veins.

"What is it?" you mumble, words slurred.

"The main drip is just a weak saline solution. The medication I just put into it is a mix of morphine and antibiotics. It should fix you up in no time. If I've done it right. Do you know how long it's been since I've had to do this?" You don't know, and you don't ask. He, of course, tells you anyway. "It has been a little less than twenty years. Twenty!"

You feel mildly sick, and you feel the color drain from your face. "Don't worry. Not to brag, but I am the best doctor involved in this war." You feel a tug on the IV in your arm, and look over to see a bloody dove. "Archimedes!" Medic shouts, "Leave that alone, she needs it!" The bird cocks its head and flies to its usual perch on a supply cabinet.

"Anyway, do you mind if I do some tests on you?"

"Do I- Tests- Medic! I may be high, but testing?" you stutter.

"It would not be anything painful," he whines, tugging off his gloves. He turns and gives you his best puppy dog face, and you almost break. Almost.

"No. No way," you say firmly, "There is to be no medical testing done on my body until I am dead for good!"

"Who said anything about medical testing?" he asks, turning to his supply cabinet that is topped with pigeons, "Archimedes, did I say anything about medical testing?" The bird coos as if it understands, shaking its head violently.

"I'll think about it, then," you sigh. His face lights up and you groan. _What have I gotten myself into_, you wonder.

"Shall I leave you, then?"

"No!" you shout quickly. Too quickly. "I- uh- I mean… I don't want to be here alone."

"Whatever you say," he says, shrugging and drawing up a chair beside your makeshift bed to sit with you. He starts humming a tune you don't recognize, but sounds familiar. You close your eyes, the morphine kicking in, and he starts to sing softly. "Es zittern die morschen Knochen, Der Welt vor dem großen Krieg, Wir haben den Schrecken gebrochen, Für uns war's ein großer Sieg." The song is soothing, and you hum along. Medic promptly stops singing, his face darkening. He almost frightens you with the amount of depression in his eyes. "Do not hum that," he says shortly, "It is a very bad song." You look at him like a child who has caught their father coloring on the walls. "I sing it because it was etched into my memory as a young man in the war," he says in way of explanation, "It was the theme of the Hitler Youth Groups."

There is an uncomfortable silence which you feel the need to break. "Oh."

"I should leave," Medic says, running a hand through his hair while he stands and exits the room. _What memory is so bad that it haunts him to that extent_, you wonder, _and what can I do about it?_

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Es zittern die morschen Knochen, Der Welt vor dem großen Krieg, Wir haben den Schrecken gebrochen, Für uns war's ein großer Sieg: The rotten bones are trembling, Of the World before the War. We have smashed this terror, For us a great victory.

The next thing I upload will be from Medic's POV, and will likely involve a flashback.


	6. Chapter 4 A

A/N: I found my phone! Which is a good thing because I couldn't remember what I'd written. ;p Also, thanks for all the reviews! :D Also also, this chapter contains somewhat questionable content. If you think I need to up the rating, let me know. III AB will be up later today.

I don't own anything but 'you'. Good lord that sounds weird…

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The movie over, you walk hand-in-hand with Medic to the lobby, head on his shoulder. "Movie store?" you ask, looking up at him. He nods, opening your door again when you get to the car. He drives you to the movie store, and you buy the movies while he buys what seems like one of every candy available and some popcorn.

"Ich liebe, meine süβe," he says when you get in the car.

"Someday, I'll have to get a German-English dictionary so I can understand you," you say, blushing lightly.

"When is your birthday?" he asks after a period of silence. You tell him, and he nods, eyes glinting mischeviously.

You get to the base and see Sniper in the doorway smoking with Spy. "C'mon," you say, "Now's our chance." Medic parks the car, opening your door for you yet again. You grumble something about not being an invalid, but he puts his arm around you and you cuddle up next to him, kissing his jaw. He turns you to face him and kisses you more fiercely than he did before, holding you against him. You hug him back, kissing with an equal amount of passion.

A minute later, you crack one eye open to see Sniper standing there, mouth open, smoldering cigarette forgotten on the ground, and Spy grinning, holding out a hand, presumably to collect on some bet. "Ich liebe," Medic says again, picking you up and carrying you, bridal style, to your quarters.

You get there and he lies you gently on the bed, asking which movie you wanted to watch first. You pick Psycho, and he puts the tape in the player. Ten minutes in, you two are already at it again, movie forgotten. "Ich liebe dich," he moans when you kiss a certain spot on the hollow of where his jaw connects with his neck. You smirk and bit down lightly, kissing it again, then sucking on it.

"Ich werde nie gehen lassen," you say, remembering his words from the previous night, taking off his suit coat. He shivers and kisses you again, less hungry than before, but no less passionate. He lays you down and lies beside you, miraculously without breaking the kiss. He trails kisses from your mouth to your jaw to your neck, taking off your jacket and shirt to reach your collarbone.

"No fair," you jokingly whine, not really minding. _If he gets to see me half naked, he'd better strip too, dammit, _you think. You hastily remove his vest and shirt, then kiss his sensitive spot again, taking pleasure in the violent shudder that is accompanied by a guttural groan. You kiss down his collarbone, trailing feather-light kisses along his scars.

"Do you mind?" he asks, reluctantly pulling away from you.

_Way to kill the moment_, you grumble mentally, but instead say, "Mind what?"

"This," he says, "Us, my age, we are about to make love if this goes where I think it is going-"

"Medic," you huff, cutting him off. You put your hands on his shoulders, resting your forehead against his.

"Y-yes?"

"Shut up," you tell him, kissing him to ensure that he does not disobey. The kiss deepens and becomes more heated. You pull at his belt, then tug off his pants, leaving him in Superman boxers. You raise an eyebrow, and he blushes. He skillfully reaches behind you and unclasps your bra, then kisses you again.

"Du bist schon. Ich will dich fur immer lieben," he says, kissing your neck.

"Medic!" calls a muffled British-accented voice. Medic groans and rises, making no attempt to redress or hide his irritation before stomping out to the hallway. You wrap your jacket around you and follow him cautiously. You didn't think there was a Brit on your team…

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Ich liebe, meine süβe: I love you, my sweet.

Ich werde nie gehen lassen: I'll never let you go

Du bist schon. Ich will dich fur immer lieben: You are beautiful. I want to love you forever.


	7. Chapter 4 B

A/N: This is what happens to Medic after he leaves You in the med bay. This is the only time that I will write in a third person perspective throughout this story. The memory (while in German) is told in English.

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"I should leave," he hears himself saying, mind already reeling through his memories. He gets to his room and collapses against the door, head in his hands. Tears form as he remembers…

_I walk through the streets, MG42 cocked and ready. The carnage is already immense, bloody corpses littering the stormdrains. I poke one of them that isn't as bloody as the rest with the toe of my boot. It rolls over to show that it has had half of its face blown in. Wincing, I continue on my way, trying to find survivors. I hear rubble fall nearby, and turn to face the general direction from whence the disturbance had come. There, in the pile of ash and stone that used to be a building, I see a small pair of eyes, watching me carefully. _

"_Come here," I bark, keeping my gun at the ready, but lowering it as not to scare the child. The gaunt, pale figure of a child emerges, covered in soot and dried blood. It is a girl, I see, but she is not one that I recognize. "State your name."_

"_I-Isabelle, sir," she says, quivering, eyes on her beaten shoes, "Isabelle Austerlitz."_

"_Are you currently enrolled in a Youth Group?"_

"_Y-yes, sir," she stutters._

"_Can you sing for me __Es zittern die morschen Knochen__, Fraulien Austerlitz?"_

" _Es zittern die morschen Knochen, Der Welt vor dem großen Krieg, Wir haben den Schrecken gebrochen, Für uns war's ein großer Sieg... Um... __I- I can't remember the rest..." Without a second thought, I raise my gun and shoot. She feels no pain, dying instantly as the bullet passes through the center of her forehead at pointblank range._

Medic cringes, tangling his fingers into his hair as if trying to pry the memory from his brain. It passes only to be replaced by another.

" _Wir werden weiter marschieren wenn alles in Scherben fällt,denn heute da hört uns Deutschland und morgen die ganze Welt." __She sang happily, dancing to her own music as she sprayed a red swastika on the side of a boarded up shop. _

"_Get away from there! It's filthy," my father called to her, gesturing for her to join us._

"_But papa, aren't you proud of your country?" He made a noise of disgust, spitting on the ground._

"_Johanna, you should listen to papa," I said quietly, fiddling nervously with the arm band in my pocket. I'd never realized how strongly Papa hated the Nazi's. I thought he would be proud when I told him that I had enlisted as a doctor, but this display of hatred told me differently. _

_Johanna skipped over to us, blue eyes shining with life. "What is wrong, brother?" I snapped out of my thoughts and smiled at her. It did not reach my eyes, and she continued to pester me. I told her I was thinking of Mama, and she fell silent, the sparkle fading. Suddenly, she seemed old and weary instead of the carefree child she had been only moments previous._

_Over dinner, we were silent, but I could not stop fingering the patch of cloth in my pocket. "Son, what's in your pocket?" my father asked as he finally noticed._

"_It is nothing, papa," I answered. Johanna, too observant for her own good, saw a corner of the red band poking out of my jacket. She pulled it out, putting it on the table, and Father looked at it, horrified. Just then, there was a knock on the door. He stood silently and answered the door._

"_Why are you not overjoyed, Herr Krutz? Did your Fritz not tell you he has enlisted?" I heard the visitor ask._

"_Get out of my house," Father said, teeth gritted. I could not see, but I could hear his face getting red with anger._

"_Not paying respect to a soldier, Herr Krutz?" the voice asked, becoming cold. Johanna ran out to stand by my father as I heard the hammer of a gun being set. My blood froze when I heard a shot, then screaming. "Fritz? Come, we have work to do," the visiting soldier called to me. I step out to see my sister's face twisted in pain and horror, blood blossoming on her clean white shirt. My father was on the floor beside her, his body half on top of hers, as if even in death he was trying to protect her._

Medic cries out, howling with twenty three years of repressed anger and sadness. His glasses had fallen to the floor at some point previously, and tears were streaming uncontrollably down his face. "Why, Herr Schneider? Why did you kill my Johanna?" he asks the empty room, voice shaking with anger. Enemy Spy stands outside the door, smirking. This would be his chance.

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Little bit of Medic's history here… No clue if any of it is accurate (except that his name is Fritz Krutz because it's on the tf2 wiki).

German!

Wir werden weiter marschieren wenn alles in Scherben fällt,denn heute da hört uns Deutschland und morgen die ganze Welt: We will continue to march, Even if everything shatters; Because today Germany hears us, And tomorrow, the whole World.

Fun fact, this is actually a Nazi song. It originally went "Because today Germany is ours, and tomorrow the whole world.


	8. Chapter 5 A

A/N: New chapter's up! I still own nothing! =p

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You follow closely behind Medic as he storms into the kitchen. You see Spy, Engineer, Sniper, Demoman, Soldier, Heavy, and a guy you don't recognize standing around Scout, who is passed out on the floor, blood spilling out of a gash in his shirt. A camera is in his hand, and there is an undeveloped picture sticking out of it, apparently forgotten. "What happened here?" Medic asks curtly, going to the cabinets to find a med kit. He stoops down and treats Scout's wound as Spy explained what had happened.

"Sniper and I were standing here making supper, and Scout got the brilliant idea to sneak up on us. As a spy, it is my job to be aware of people. I thought he might be an enemy, so I turned and cut him before I looked," he says, fingering his sleeve cuff nervously. You know there is something he's not saying, but you won't push it here. You tap Heavy on the shoulder, and he leans down to your level.

"Who's that? New recruit?" you whisper, pointing at the strange man.

"I do not know. All I know is that little man is British and knows way around," he answers, shrugging. You look again at the man and see that he is wearing fireproof pants.

"Pyro?" you gasp aloud. The man turns to look at you, eyebrows raised as if he was expecting another question. He's ruggedly handsome, you see: tall, slim face with a squared jawline, the scruffy shadow of an imminent beard having started to grow. His hair is dirty blonde, curly, and just a touch longer than Medic's, his eyes the same steely blue with flecks of golden brown throughout. Before meeting Medic, you might have even fallen for him.

You push the thought away, watching Medic intently as he patched up Scout. "He will live," he finally says, "But for God's sake, don't scare him like that again!" You see Sniper and Spy both hang their heads like children being scolded. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I was in the middle of something very important," he growls, turning on his heels before heading back towards the bunks. You spare another glance at the unmasked Pyro, making a mental note to ask why he was unmasked later.

You jog to catch up with Medic and find him sulking on your bed. "Oh for the love of-" you mutter, "Medic, you're acting like a child!" He looks up at you, but doesn't say anything. "I swear to God, Medic, if you don't snap out of it right now, I'm going to kick you out!" You realize at some point that you sound like Soldier.

"I am sorry, Frӓulein. You are right. I am being a child," he says, hanging his head, "I do not like dividing my attentions between work and personal life, especially on the days that I am not supposed to work." You sigh and sit by him, putting an arm around his shoulder, your other hand coming to rest on his knee.

"At least now our Scout will be okay for tomorrow's battles," you say brightly, trying to make light of the situation, "Ich liebe, Doctor." He smiles weakly and puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to him so that your head came to rest on his chest.

" Du habe soeben unwissentlich machte mich der glücklichste Mensch auf Erden," he murmurs, into your hair. You sigh happily and lean into him.

"Let's turn on West Side Story," you yawn.

"Are you sure you do not want to sleep?"

"Nope. It's movie day, remember?" In all honesty, you were tired. Between all the restfulness and excitement, you were thoroughly worn out, and it was almost nine anyway. Medic agreed and released you, standing and lumbering over to the player, switching the videos, and playing the musical. The two of you lie down and start watching it. Before it even got to the first Jets song, you were fast asleep, cuddled snugly against Medic. He smiles, turns off the television, and wraps his arms protectively around you. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling that tomorrow would be a very trying day.

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Enemy Spy stood outside the door, cloaked. He'd been following them for the better part of the day, trying to find something about the pesky girl so that he could take her out slowly and painfully, possibly hurting others in the process. Merde fille had been the only one in a long while to earn his personal spite. You don't send Spy to respawn five times in a row without gaining a personal vendetta against you. _Now_ t_he chienne is mine._ He laughed silently, stealing away into the night.

He knew he'd be able to dig up something, but this… This was just too good! Not only would he get revenge on the girl, but he'd take down their Medic in the process! His team would be unstoppable! Even if their Engineer built turrets everywhere, he could be taken out easily, followed by the damn machines, and a Heavy, while long-lived, was nothing without his Medic counterpart, to say nothing of the injured Scout!

As he got back to his base, Spy called a team meeting. "This is what I found today," he said, his accent thick with excitement. He threw down a file on the table, and pictures of you and Medic spill out. There's one of you leaving the theatre, hand in hand and one of you and Medic kissing in the parking lot of your base. "Get to one, and we get to the other. It was disgusting, really…" Heavy and Soldier take the pictures, seeming to memorize every detail. Scout took his page of notes and glanced through them.

"Good work, Spy," Soldier barked, "Now all we've got to do is find a way to get to them."

"Leave it to me," Spy said darkly, a plan already forming in his mind.

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A/N: Uh-oh! You and Medic are in troooouble! ;p

OK, so the Spy bit isn't in this story's usual format, but this will be the last time that I do that… Unless Medic has a flashback (see chapter 4 AB for some of his background if you haven't already… Y'know, if you want to ;p). Reviews are appreciated. ^^ Thank you all so much! The next chapter will be up soon!

German:

Du habe soeben unwissentlich machte mich der glücklichste Mensch auf Erden: You have just unwittingly made me the happiest man alive.

French!

Merde fille: Damn girl

Chienne: Bitch


	9. Chapter 5 B

A/N: Sorry it's a little late… Been busy… Own nothing… This chapter is just kinda filler… It probably has no value to the story… =_=

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"Soldier!" you call, still restrained, "Soldier, find Medic!"

"What in TARNATION is going on here, soldier?" he barks, poking his head in the doorway. He stomps over to the bed and loosens the restraints on your arms.

"'M sick. But I want to fight. Medic ran off," you say, removing the last of your restraints, "I think he's in trouble. I've got to go find him." You run off through the halls, asking Spy, Soldier, and Pyro if they had seen him. They all answered negatively. You come to a screeching halt in front of his door, and hold your breath. You rap lightly on the door, "Medic?"

"Come in," you hear a distant voice tell you. You open the door, and see that the room is totally dark, no sign of life in sight. "Over here," you hear him sigh. You also hear rustling, and soon you are able to see the tall German emerge from where he had been huddled in a corner.

"Medic, are you okay?" you ask, alarmed at his disheveled appearance. Even with only the light that spills in from the hallway, you can see that he looks somehow different. Broken. "Medic?"

"Ja," he says, his voice weary, "I think I will be fine."

"I may not be a doctor, but you don't look fine," you say, running your thumb down one of the tear tracks, trying to wipe it away. He swats your hand away.

"I said I will be fine. Stop babying me," he hisses. You look at him closely, eyes narrowing, but you comply.

"In that case, get dressed. The day starts in half an hour." Medic stares pointedly down at himself, and you blush at the stupidity of your statement, realizing that he is, in fact, already dressed. "I, uh… I'll see you on the field," you say, rubbing the back of your neck as you leave.

"Mission begins in ten seconds," hisses the feminine voice, "Nine, eight."

"Are you sure you are okay to battle?" Medic asks you, blasting you with his medigun.

"I'll be fine. Stop babying me," you shoot back as the doors unlock. You run and lose Medic, ripping through the enemy line, guns blazing. You soon find yourself in the enemy intel room –worn down and exhausted. The stitches in your leg have been torn, your wound open and bleeding heavily. You sit down for a moment to catch your breath. A few seconds later, you are alarmed to find a cold metal blade pressed against your throat.

"Do not move, girl!" you hear a spy exclaim from behind you. You hear more people filing in behind him, grumbling angrily. He leans down so that his lips are grazing your ear, "It's me. I'm getting you out of here." You breathe deeply, trying to regain your composure. "Let's go," he says so that everyone can hear him, "I cannot let you escape again." He shoves you roughly to get you moving, and guides you through halls which are different from the way you came.

You are almost at your base when you see Medic and… yourself? Your eyes widen, and you see a hand holding a butterfly knife emerge. "Medic!" you call, breaking free of Spy but it is too late. "You" change into Enemy Spy as blood begins to flower out from the stab wound. Your vision goes red, and before you realize it, you're straddling Enemy Spy, punching his already-bloody face. "You. God. Damn. Son. Of. A. Bitch!" you yell between punches. He's already dead, you notice, but you just keep pummeling him, his skull thoroughly pulverized.

It isn't until you feel a large, heavy hand on your shoulder that you stop, giving in to the flood of emotions that have been dammed for so long. You start sobbing uncontrollably, allowing yourself to be pulled off of the corpse and guided back to the respawn room. There, you cry into the shoulder of the person who had guided you here, not caring who it was, nor bothering to look. "It is okay," he purrs, a German accent clear in his voice.

"Medic," you sigh, sniffling, "God, I'm so sorry…"

"Quiet," he barks, "It is my fault." You scoff. "I should never have let you go to battle today. Your infection is probably worse, now. I want you to do exactly as I say, alright?" You nod hesitantly, knowing what he was going to say. "I want you to go back to the base and sleep," he says, holding you at arms-length to look you in the eye, "Promise me."

"No," you tell him defiantly, wiping away some of the tears that haven't yet stopped, "I came here to fight in this goddammed war, I'm going to fight in it."

"No, you are going to go and sleep so that you can fight another day. Your eyes are glassy, your face is green, and you are swaying even while sitting here. You are unfit for battle. Go back to camp, now. Doctor's orders." His voice is now firm and unyielding, so you have no choice but to stand to leave, only to see spots and sit back down.

"Not going anywhere…" you mumble, shaking your head to try to clear it, "Not until I can stand up without passing out, anyway."

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Spy's great revenge plan will probably come next chapter, I just wanted to get this up… ^^;


	10. Chapter 6 A REWRITTEN!

A/N: I own nothing.

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"Where in GOD's name is MEDIC?" you hear Soldier yelling outside. He bangs on the door, yelling at you to get up and ready. You smile and kiss Medic awake.

"You've got to go get dressed, Medic," you say softly, already pulling on a shirt.

"Fritz," he mumbles, stumbling towards the door.

"I'm sorry?"

"Fritz," he says again, "My name is Fritz." He opens the door, sparing you one last tired smile before slipping out to his own room.

"Fritz," you repeat while you tug on your pants, savoring the way it rolls off the tongue. You wince when you feel your stitches pull again. You make a mental note to keep Fritz close during the battle. _Might not hurt my kill count to be Übercharged, either_, you think, lacing up your boots, _No more Respawn! And I can keep him from getting Back-stabbed, too. _You step out into the corridor to see Pyro and Engineer being chased by Sniper and Spy. Engie and Pyro are laughing uncontrollably, and Sniper and Spy look upset. No, not upset. _Livid_. "C'mon, guys, save it for the battlefield!" you call after them, sighing as you drag yourself to the kitchen for a nice bit of caffeine before you have to get to the Respawn Room.

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"Mission begins in ten seconds," the cool voice of the announcer says, starting the countdown.

"Stay with me," Medic says, medigun at the ready. You cock your weapon, and when the doors unlock, follow closely behind him. You feel a pleasant warmth wash over your body, and you start feeling extremely energetic. "Übercharge is almost ready… Just another few seconds… Aha!" You shout out something to alert the enemy that you are Übercharged.

"I'm going to go ahead," you tell Medic, running forth into the depths of the enemy base.

"Frauleine! Wait for me!" you hear Medic call in the distance. Yon ignore him, blasting the lock off of the door.

"Medic! It's wearing off!" you yell ahead of you, running in zig-zags to avoid any bullet that may be headed your way. You hear his footfalls echoing through the corridors, almost running into him as you pass each other. He quickly turns and follows you until you come to a four-way intersection.

"This way!" he says, grabbing your arm and pulling you to the left. You clutch the briefcase possesively, and soon you can see the sunlight, crudely-built door only a few hundred feet ahead of you. _CrashClang!_ you hear, recoiling as you hit a set of metal bars. "Dammit!" he says, kicking one of them. You look around to find that you are trapped in a cage. You hear laughter, almost maniac, coming from somewhere to the right.

"Tsk tsk tsk, did you really think you would get out with the intel so easily?" asked the disembodied voice with a French accent. You hear the familiar sound of Spy decloaking, and Enemy Spy materializes before you, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, a remote in his hand. "Hand it over." You fold your arms over your chest, the briefcase held firmly against you.

"L-Let us go!" you stammer.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Spy asks, polishing his perfectly-manicured nails on his suit. You grab your weapon, aiming it at him.

"I said," you start, firing your weapon just to the left of him, leaving a mark in the wall, smirking as he jumps, "Let us go!"

"Give me the intel, and we'll talk." Suddenly, you hear heavy footfalls coming from behind you at an incredible pace for how heavy the person is. You look at Fritz, who mouths _Ivan_ to you. You weren't on a first-name basis with many of the guys, but it didn't take a genius to figure that one out. You put three fingers out at your side, then count down before hitting the ground, pulling Medic with you. Almost on cue, you hear the hail of bullets coming from Sasha. You toss the intel to him, and he catches it easily with one hand. You set off your weapon again, this time killing the damn back-stabber.

"Ivan, get the remote!" Medic calls to the giant man. You hear Spy Decloaking, and Ivan morphs into another Enemy Spy. "Dammit! Two spies? No wonder I'm always getting back-stabbed!" You groan, and look at the weapon in your hand. It would be SO much easier just to kill each other and restart from Respawn. Medic looks at you and seems to read your thoughts, taking out his bonesaw. You look at it reproachfully, then hand him your secondary weapon. "On drei?" he asks. You nod, and he puts the barrel to your temple shortly before you mirror his move. "Eins, zwei, drei!" You set off your weapons at the same time.

Some seconds later, you open your eyes to see Fritz standing beside you, hand outstretched. He is grinning maniacally, and his medigun is already trained on you, charging the Übercharge meter. "Lets go get that intel.

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OK, so this is the rewritten version, and frankly, I don't know if I like it any better than the first... So I might go back and re-rewrite it. AND NOW FOR A QUICK QUESTION/STATEMENT!

I've been writing as non-descrepantly as possible as to allow you to imagine what class and team you are (up until that last paragraph, I think I was doing an OK job). Do you want me to start making a category for each class and team, or should I just leave it as is? More classes means the chapters will be a lot slower in coming out, but it will also have a more personalized effect. If I keep it going like this, should I make "you" a certain class or team? If so, what class/team should "you" be? THE MAJORITY WILL WIN! If I want to, when all this is over, I might go back and rewrite bits as other classes, but for now, I'm not sure if multiple class chapters will work...


	11. Chapter 6 B

A/N: I own nothing.

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Medic sighs beside you. He's managed to find some blankets and to make a more or less comfortable place for you to rest until he can get out of battle for a few minutes to run you back to the main base. "I have to go. I will be back to check on you, okay?" he asks you, smiling weakly. You nod, unhappily -albeit comfortably -snuggled in the centre of the makeshift nest. You feel pathetic abandoning your team because of a little fever, not to mention your total breakdown in front of Medic -who had handled it surprisingly well. You hadn't expected such... Tenderness from the supposedly-sadistic doctor.

He stares at you for a second, then nods slowly, turning to leave. "If you need anthing, call. I'll be here," he says quietly, "Try to get some sleep while I'm out." You hear the shed door slide open and slam shut, and you know that he's gone. You sigh and close your eyes. Your head is pounding in unison with your heart, and your leg is burning as if a Pyro's Degreaser were trained on your bullet wound. Somehow, you manage to fall asleep.

A few minutes later, the cool voice of the announcer comes across the intercom. She sounds disappointed, and even a bit angry as she says "You failed!" The shed door opens, and Medic runs in, hands above his head. He stands in front of you, stance set. You open your eyes, and from between Medic's legs you see that of Enemy Spy. There is a sudden spattering of blood, and Medic crumples to a lifeless heap before you. Spy grins sadistically at you, bloody knife out. You squeeze your eyes shut and cringe. He stabs your already-aching chest, and you live just long enough to hear his smooth voice inform you that you "got blood on his suit".

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You wake up standing, but your leg quickly gives way, and you collapse. You are only mildly surprised to find yourself in the arms of Medic, who seems to have been standing behind where you fell, expecting you. "Come on, back to the nest. Just a few more rounds and it will be break time," he says softly, wrapping one of your arms around his broad shoulders so that he can support you. You limp lamely beside him, and once you're situated watch Medic walk over to the supply cabinet, rummaging around until he finds a little pink bottle.

"Drink this and take two of these," he says, tossing you the pink bottle and a second blue bottle, "The pills will take away your pain, and the pink liquid will fight the infection. I- We need you to get better, okay?" You nod and sit up, closing your eyes as white stars obscure your vision. When they clear, you open your eyes, open the blue bottle, and shake out two pills. You open the pink bottle, put the pills in your mouth, and swallow them along with the creamy pink iquid. It is sweet, and tastes of bubble gum. You sigh and lie down again, hoping that the next few rounds would be more successful. You wouldn't die, but it's annoying to be "killed" as soon as you wake up.

"Wake up. It is time to get you back to base," you hear as someone shakes you while hoisting you up. You groan and open your eyes to find that you are already at the van. Medic puts you down, and opens your door. He helps you climb into the passenger's seat, and you buckle in as he gets into the drivers sear and starts the engine. Before you even get to the base, you are asleep again. This time, you do not awaken when Medic carries you gently through the halls, careful not to jostle you. He sighs as he reaches your room and lies you down in your bed. "Gottverdammt," he mutters, "Ich liebe dich nicht."

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So... Another short chapter...

German:

God damn it, I should not love you.


	12. Chapter 7 A

I own nothing.

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You run behind Fritz, who is running as fast as he can while healing Ivan, who is spraying the area with minigun shells. Behind you is the team's other medic, Franz. Only seconds remain in the round, and there is only one intelligence case left to steal. You feel Franz's übercharge being deployed, and laugh, the sheer power washing over you. You rush ahead of Ivan, whose body is crackling and glowing with the effects of Fritz's übercharge. You find the case in a back room, snatch it, and run as fast as you can out of the enemy base, Ivan, Franz, and Fritz following close behind.

The four of you dodge Sticky Bombs, a few stray rockets, a burst of flame here and there, and finally reach base, tossing the case on top of the already-heaping pile. "Leetle girl is credit to team. Doctors, girl, and me need to team up more," he says, scooping you up in an enormous bear hug. You laugh, at once proud and full of adrenaline.

"Couldn't have done it without you, Iv," you answer, squirming a little, trying to find a way to breathe while the life was being unintentionally squeezed out of you. Fritz coughed weakly as if he is trying to draw attention to himself. You see that he and his doppelganger have their arms around each other, and you laugh. "Or you guys. Man! Did you see us? We were untouchable!" Fritz laughed, and Ivan put you down.

"You were amazing, meine leibe," he murmurs in your ear, pulling you into an embrace of his own. You breathe in the intoxicating scent that you have already associated with Fritz: his natural musk, the peppery scent of his shampoo, and a hint of black licorice. You sigh into his lab coat, kissing his neck softly. "Later, kӓtzchen." He releases you, and Franz takes hold of you while Fritz is crushed by Ivan. Franz smiles and hugs you lightly. "Come, kӓtzchen. Let us be off," Fritz says, taking your hand in his hulking paw and leading you back to tfort2.

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Back in the hallway between your rooms, you are still alone; no one else has arrived back at base yet. Fritz has a protective arm around your shoulder, occasionally leaning down to say something into your ear. "D-do you want to go to my room or yours?" you stutter, trying to keep your voice even. He growls and turns on you, pushing you up against the wall, pinning your arms behind you. He slams a fist against the wall near your head and you cower, suddenly afraid. He puts his forehead against yours, noses touching. You feel his breath teasing your lips, the minty aroma assaulting your nostrils.

"Mein Gott, Ich liebe dich," he growls, moving to bite your ear. You feel yourself relax, no longer afraid.

"Your room, then," you say, your voice quivering with anticipation. He nods briefly, picking you up and carrying you into his room.

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You lie with Fritz, head on his chest. "So... You'll stay, right? You won't leave me now?"

"Of course, meine kӓtzchen... I will not leave you," he purrs, his chest rumbling pleasantly beneath you.

"I've known you for a year or two now, so I think it's okay for me to say this," you say, pausing dramatically, "I think I love you, Fritz." He chuckles, sending another set of tremors through the bare flesh which you laid on.

"Ich liebe dich," he says simply. You pull away and look at him, hurt.

"I don't really expect you to say it yet, but couldn't you at least acknowledge the fact that I said that I love you?"

"I did, kӓtzchen," he answers, pulling you back down to him.

"No you didn't," you grumble, "All you said was _Ich liebe dich_." He laughs again, stroking your hair.

"I am very surprised that you do not yet know the meaning of that phrase."

"I told you that I don't speak German..." You massage your temple with one hand.

"No, but that is one of the German phrases that most people know," he says, capturing your hand and kissing your temple.

"Well, what does it mean?" Medic shakes his head.

"Another time, kӓtzchen."

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Hooray for crappy sappy chapters! German in this chapter should be either easy enough to understand, or at least so overused that I don't need to define it anymore... But for the record, kӓtzchen is kitten. =p


	13. Chapter 7 B

A/N: I'm baaaack~ Still own nothing, though.

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You sleep fitfully that evening, occasionally waking and longing to feel a warm body beside you, but there never seems to be one. You can't remember everything, only that you'd been killed a few times, and that you'd somehow gotten back to your room. Probably Medic's doing. You remember vividly that he'd been acting strangely... Protective. You almost want to say worried, but... It's so out of character that you don't know you could call it that.

When you wake up for the last time, you just lie there. You feel like death warmed over, but you want so badly to get answers to your innumerable questions. You try to move, but can't manage it. Even the slightest twitch takes up immense amounts of energy, and causes only an incredible amount of pain. You try to call out, but your throat's so dry you can't even make a squeak. Just a pathetic, hissing cough. You look around, eyes frantically searching for a glass of water, or a phone, or anything you could use to help you. You wish Medic would come back... You can vaguely remember him waking you on occasion to check whether you were alright. But now... There's no sign of him. You start sobbing, but there are no tears. Only a painful heaving that sounds vaguely like barking.

You hear heavy footfalls and breathe a sigh of relief, trying again to lift an arm towards the door. You try to call out to whoever it is in the hall. You hear them stop just outside your door, but they continue on when they don't hear anything. You bring as much saliva as you can into your mouth, wetting your throat just enough to manage a weak, raspy 'Medic!' You can only pray that he heard you.

It sounds at first as though it hadn't been enough, but shortly thereafter you hear the footsteps again, more urgent and deliberate than before. "Hello? Are you awake?" you hear Medic calling, looking over as the door handle twists slowly and the door creaks open. He's brought a bottle of water. You let your eyes fall shut with a heavy sigh of relief, and Medic rushes to your side, handing you the bottle before turning away to pull a chair closer. You leave the water lying lamely at your side, unsure whether you'll be able to lift it - assuming you can move your arms. When he turns back to you, he sighs and props you up against the freezing wall. It's not as agonizing as moving on your own had been, but it's far from pleasant. You relax against the wall once you've finished the water, eyes closed once more.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asks quietly, looking down at his hands.

"A little," you mumble, opening one eye to look at him, "Thank you."

Studying his face, you see that his mouth is set in a thin, firm line and his jaws are clenched. Is he... Angry with you? The idea hits you harder than expected, and certainly more than you'd like. You follow his gaze down to his hands. It takes you a few moments to realize that, though as big and square as ever, they look different. He's taken off his gloves. You wrack your brain, trying to think of another time you'd seen him without them, but can't come up with one. His fingers are laced together, and his thumbs tap against each other -whether out of boredom, frustration, anxiety... Well, that you didn't know.

"Are... Are _you_ okay?" you ask slowly, remembering how he'd snapped the last time you'd tried to comfort him. You tear your eyes away from his hands, forcing yourself to look back up at his face. His jaw clenches a little tighter.

"I- ... Soldier has asked me to inform you that if you jeopardize another mission, he will have you reassigned," he murmurs softly, "For now, you are on a three week suspension." He pauses for a moment, unlacing his fingers and trying to find a comfortable place to put his hands. "I'm sorry."

You can feel your face twisting into an expression of confusion. "What... For?"

"I-..." He closes his mouth and shakes his head, taking off his glasses and looking away. He looks... Old. Tired. Worn down. It scares you to see him like this.

"Medic? Please... I want to help you." You reach out to put a shaky hand on his shoulder, but he takes it in one massive paw. He looks up with a sad smile.

"Please... Don't," he whispers, running the pad of his thumb slowly over the back of your hand, "Don't make this harder." You tug your hand away from him and frown.

"I- I'm sorry? I didn't mean to-"

"No. I know you didn't," he fidgets nervously in the chair, "Listen... I was just coming down here to say-" His voice cuts off when he realizes you've stopped paying attention. You look past him, through the doorway.

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A/N: Oh no! What's happening? What are you looking at? Is everything going to be okay? Why the hell is Medic acting so weird?

Chances are, you already know the answers to all of these questions. And if not, you won't have to wait long to find out - the majority of the next chapter just needs to be transferred from my notebook to my computer!


	14. Chapter 8 B

A/N: Told you it'd be fast! ;)

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Spy is standing across the hall, leaning against the frame of Pyro's door. His expression is somewhere between smug, upset, and impatient. _This can't be good..._ you think to yourself. "Can't- Can't it wait?" you ask, looking back at Medic, "Please... Just stay here with me a while..." You look away again, embarrassed. "I'm afraid to be alone like this... I need you here in case something goes wrong again..." The flimsiness of your excuse is transparent, even to you. You can't quite decide who it is you're trying to convince. You hear a low, throaty chuckle and try to hide your blush with extremely minimal success. While it's true that you don't want to be alone in this state, it's not the whole reason you want him there, and you both know it.

When you look up again, you see that the sad smile is back. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead shakes his head and shoots a pleading glance back at Spy. The Frenchman slinks into your room, staying only long enough for a quick, hushed conversation with Medic, and a few glares aimed in your direction. When he leaves, he closes the door behind him. "I don't have long," he tells you sadly, reaching to take your hand again, "He says he can stall them for an hour -at most. After that, we're both on our own..."

"M- Medic? What's happening? ... Where are you going? And- And why do you have to leave?" You can hear tremor of fear in your voice. You feel silly, but... Medic has been the only one on the team you could consistently rely on, and trust. The only one who didn't (openly) hate you, or regard you as inferior. He was always around to protect you when the others got drunk and rowdy, or when they started making derogatory comments about your class or gender. "Please... Don't leave me here... Not with them."

He finds himself able only to swallow heavily and move you to the side so he can lie with you. "I don't want to. You know that I don't. ... But I am not being given very much of a choice," he explains after a few moments of silence, resting one arm behind your shoulders. You can't decide whether to shrink away or to curl up closer to him.

"An hour...?" you ask, looking up at him again, "What's in an hour? And how do you not have a choice?" He sighs heavily, clearly in no mood to answer your questions. He closes his eyes and lets his head droop to rest on yours.

"Spy owed me a favor. Never mind what for. I- I was supposed to be gone hours ago... I asked to stay until you were awake, but the others didn't want to allow it... He is distracting them long enough for us to talk. The time we agreed on was..." He pauses briefly to check his watch. "Five minutes ago."

Your brow furrows. "That still doesn't explain _why_ you're leaving..." It takes him a moment to come up with a satisfactory answer.

"They- They have decided that I am _unfit for duty_," he spits, "That I have taken too much of a personal interest to be of any use." Your pain is temporarily forgotten. You curl up against his side, resting your head on his chest. The arm that had been around your shoulders remains where it was briefly while he looks down at you, then comes down to rest on your shoulders once more. He squeezes you in a loose one-armed hug.

"Is there anything I can do...?" He pats your arm and shakes his head.

"There's nothing to be done. Just promise you will take care of the team. I have taught you well enough, yes? You should make an excellent medic."

"But... You're Medic. I can't be Medic... I'm not even a doctor!" He chuckles and shakes his head.

"I am Fritz, not Medic. I'm no longer even a medic in title. I promise, you'll do well. I trust you. And if they don't... Well, then they can all die repeatedly, and you can go on doing what it is that you do now." He shrugs a little and pulls you closer. "Just stay safe, ja?"

You nod slowly. "Where... Are you going to go?"

"I don't know yet," he answers, "I've been offered a position on the Other side, but... I do not know that I could do that. Not knowing that you were still here. I couldn't fight you. Not after protecting you for so long."

"Med- ... Fritz. What are you talking about?"

"I was trying to be discreet, but... If I am leaving, what good does discretion do me? I have grown quite fond of you, as I am sure you were no doubt aware. I know that you are not completely indifferent to me, either." You look up again. Even through the fog of illness, the pieces are beginning to come together.

"Y- You're leaving because of... _me_?" you squeak.

He laughs more fully than he had since the before incident in his lab. "No, no... This isn't your doing. Their Spy... He must have been here recently... He has given our- your team information which I have never spoken of to anyone. I thought I was alone. I should have been more careful." The sadness in his voice has returned. "My sister... He revealed to them a past from which I thought I had escaped."

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A/N: I'm sorry... Thought this was going to go in one direction, but didn't end up liking it, and now it's... Not the way I wanted it, and... I can't decide whether to make things silly or serious, and this is all awful and OOC and I'm so, so sorry... I'll- I'll either end up rewriting or fixing things in the next chapter... Let me know what you think.


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